Romione Rambles
by wildegreenlight
Summary: A collection of Romione drabbles.
1. Chapter 1: Enough

**Enough**

(A DH Missing Moment Drabble in Honor of Valentine's Day)

Hermione shuffled a little blindly out of bed and toward the tent's makeshift kitchen. It was still dark out, but the rising sun would soon be visible. Her shift at watch was close and she wanted to wake up a bit before heading out to face the cold.

As she reached the table she stopped short. Sitting at what had become "her" place was a steaming mug and a small bunch of what appeared to be some type of holly with tiny purple berries tied in a rather sad looking bow. Had the bow been better constructed and not so obviously made of scrap fabric, she might have thought she was dreaming. She did that quite a bit now; imaging warm baths and pastries and a heart that didn't constantly ache.

No, this was no dream. This offering had been left for her, she didn't need to ask by whom. She tried her hardest to summon the anger that had been her nearest companion since Ron's return; she clenched her fists at her sides and snarled down at the gifts intending to leave them untouched.

As fate would have it, at that moment the scent of that cup of tea, of very expensive French tea reached her nose. It was the same tea that her Grandmother always made for her when she came for a visit (perhaps she was dreaming after all).

Her hands shook as she reached out and brought the steaming cup to her lips. It was the most perfect thing she had tasted in months: the perfect amount of sugar and the optimal temperature. She was so absorbed in the experience that she initially missed the tent flap opening, but she did not remain oblivious to his presence as he moved closer behind her. The husky whisper of her voice sought him out, though she never turned around.

"How?"

"When I was at Bill and Fleur's."

"Oh."

"I recognized the tin. It was just like the one in the package your Mum sent you last year on your birthday. I nicked the last of it, for you. I've been saving it for a special occasion…and since today is…well…you know."

"I know."

"Well, anyway…I hope you enjoy it. I wish it were more. I know it's not enough."

She felt him turn to go: back to his watch, back to his purgatory. It would have been so easy to just let him go; to deny him the comfort of her words, to deny herself the relief of saying them. But, as they say in the stories, the warmth of his gesture thawed at least a tiny bit of her frozen heart.

"It is."

And for the moment, it was.


	2. Chapter 2: For Now

**A/N: This drabble is in honor of Ron's Birthday. It is a sort of companion to the last drabble, "Enough"**

"Try to get some sleep."

"That shouldn't be a problem, mate, I am knackered."

"See you in the morning."

"Hey, you can wake me up when your shift is done if Hermione is still asleep."

"No way! She said she'd hex me if I did that again."

Ron glanced over his shoulder at the tent and chuckled. Harry was right. She had been furious with him the last time she caught him taking her turn at watch, but it was entirely worth it to him. He could handle her yelling at him if it meant she was warm, dry, and rested.

"It's a good thing you're not as scared of Death Eaters as you are of Hermione."

"I didn't see you laughing when you were dodging canaries."

He held his hands up in mock surrender. Truth be told, it was nice to have a little normalcy with Harry. Things were better most days, but there will still times when it took all Ron had to keep their spirits up.

"Right then, until tomorrow."

He couldn't wait to change out of his clothes, they were damp from the misty weather, and he could think of nothing better than getting into a warm, dry bed. Truth be told, he could think of _one thing_ better, but being able to snuggle into bed with Hermione seemed about as likely as his finding the rest of the horcruxes under one of Aunt Muriel's tea cozies. His glance at her sleeping form was automatic as he made his way as over to his bunk as quietly as possible. He stopped short noticing that something was lying on top of his bed. It was his favorite pair of sleep pants and his warmest jumper. He hadn't seen either of them since he had left, and he had assumed they had been lost or Hermione had burned them in effigy.

In addition, there was a small box of chocolate biscuits with a piece of parchment on top. With trembling fingers, he held it closer to the jar of dimly lit blue flames beside his bed. The box of biscuits had definitely seen better days; it appeared to have been smashed at some point, but someone had tried to mend it. He read the note, his heart pounding in his chest.

 _Happy Birthday, Ron_

 _I know it's not much, but I hope it will do…for now._

 _Hermione_

"I made a promise, last year." Her voice was so low that he almost thought he had dreamed it.

"A promise?"

"Yes. To myself really, but I still should not have broken it."

He sniffed loudly, turning to find her standing almost directly in front of him.

"Impossible. I have never known you to break any sort of promise, sounds more like something I would do."

She stepped even closer, reaching out and placing her palm over his heart. He could not stop the tears that pricked at his eyes. Hermione's eyes did not seek his, but instead stared at the place where she still touched him.

"I promised that I would never turn my back on you again, no matter what. That I would never let something come between us again. I'm sorry that I wasn't strong enough to keep that promise."

"Mione…you were not the weak one, I was. I hope one day you can forgive me, but I know I will never forgive myself."

"I guess it's easier to forgive the people we care about than it is to forgive ourselves."

"I guess so."

Ron placed his hand on top of hers, sure that she could feel his heart; if she could, she did not mention it, just as he did not mention the tears slipping down her cheeks.

"But if we forgive each other, could that be enough? For now?"

"More than enough."


End file.
